


A Memory Lost

by cohenatwood



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: A great old film, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amnesia, Anachronistic, Angst, F/F, Mustard Gas, PTSD, Post-War, Random Harvest AU, Romance, Shrapnel - Freeform, War, ish, shell-shock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-21 11:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14283831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cohenatwood/pseuds/cohenatwood
Summary: Lexa Woods sits in an asylum with injuries sustained from the current war. No memory of who she is or where she comes from, she meets an Army doctor who will change her life.





	A Memory Lost

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know. It's been ages since i've done a fic/updated. I lost a lot of inspiration for awhile for just writing in general but I am back! If you notice, I deleted some fics that I knew I wasn't going to go back to but have kept my DivorceAU up as I have the next chapter in that like 3/4ths of the way done. This new one is basically already written, much like FUBAR had been so this won't be abandoned and the updates should be quite regular. I hope you enjoy! I took a lot of inspiration from the 1942 film Random Harvest, although a lot of it will be changed, just the amnesia aspect is a huge factor. If you're curious, check it out, it's actually quite good. 
> 
> Anyways I hope you guys enjoy! All errors are mine.

Lexa Woods sits in her wheelchair by the window of her room. She doesn't need it anymore, but the orderly's have insisted she stay in the chair. Shell-shocked and injured gravely, Lexa only has one thing, her name. And even then, after many searches, it has become apparent that her name that they believe it is, probably isn't actually her name. Found in the trenches with the rest of her troop dead, suffering from shrapnel wounds, mustard gas poisoning, and disorientated. She spent months in a hospital, her memory from before being found in that trench never returning, her speech limited for the most part, the doctors believed it best she be taken to the Albridge Asylum where she could be cared for.

So she sits in the asylum. It's the evening now and she watches outside her window as different orderlies escort patients around the property. Lexa sometimes doesn't feel she belongs with them. She's able to dress herself, eat by herself, wander by herself. Everyone else needs help with all of those things, but not her. The only thing she believes she has in common with the other patients is loneliness. No home, no family, no lover. Just herself and an emptiness and hole in her memory she believes will never be fulfilled.

Lexa is broken out of her thoughts when she sees multiple people open the gates shouting something, seemingly excited. She watches the reactions of everyone, they burst out in pure joy and begin shouting to everyone else on the grounds. Before she knows it, people outside her room have begin shouting and flailing about. Lexa furrows her brow, as she tunes her hearing in on the shouts.

"La guerre est finie!" Thick French accents continue to yell. Although she has spent a couple months here, her knowledge of the French language has continued to be lacking. A chorus of more yelling continues, finally she hears in broken English, "The war is done!"

Lexa takes a deep breath and sits back in her wheelchair. It's finished. All the death and destruction is now a thing of the past. Until new politics, and power hungry leaders have other ideas but for now, the war is over.

The war inside Lexa's head, however, is not.

 //

 

Throughout the chaos of celebration, Lexa had changed her attire and had made a decision. She was leaving the asylum. Dressed in a white t-shirt, khaki slacks, and loafers, she fixes her long brown hair and puts her coke bottle glasses on. Around her eyes, she still had the red splotches from the mustard gas having hit her eyes briefly, making her verdant eyes stand out. She exits her private bathroom and grabs a peacoat and begins her escape.

Her escape wasn't some dramatic thing, she simply just walks out of the gates and into the crowded streets of the French town. Singing and cheers all around her, it's hard for her not to slightly smile at how happy everyone is. Some people clap her on the back, making her startle some, when she realized they were just congratulating her and meant no harm, she'd smile and nod before continuing her walk around the town. 

She sees an old tavern tucked into the cobblestone streets and decides it doesn't look too crowded. She makes her way inside and looks around. A coat hanger filled with jackets is to her left as other patrons continue their own celebrations by drinking and laughing. She hangs her coat and walks towards the bar and takes a seat. A bartender is soon attending to her.

"Boisson?" He quirks. Lexa opens her mouth to say something but realizes she's not sure what she'd like and she has no funds to pay for something even if she had an idea of what to drink. Maybe in her old life she didn't drink at all. Maybe she had a go to drink. She just doesn't know. The thoughts make her face puzzled and confused as the bartender watches her. He gives her a soft smile, seeing her conflicted state and just begins pouring a dark liquid into a tumbler glass. 

"On the house." He says with a heavy French accent, "Tout sur la maison ce soir!" He then shouts to everyone in the bar. Cheers erupt and the singing begins. Lexa smiles and nods at the bartender as he gives her a sly wink before excusing himself to the other end of the bar. 

Lexa takes the glass to her lips and sips. The first sip makes her struggle for a moment, not expecting the strength of the hard liquor. She then slowly sips again and feels the warmth begin to spread within her. She begins spinning the glass slightly on the wood of the bar, staring at the drink, as she occasionally brings it to her lips. She wonders if anyone is looking for her, both from the asylum and her old life. She wonders if she is going to return to the asylum, or attempt to venture off on her own. She's broken from her thoughts when a body has joined her on the stool to her left. 

"Can I get a whiskey?" A distinct American accent says. Lexa perks up, the first American she has heard in months. Lexa peaks over to the person who has joined her.

The woman is dressed in an Army doctor uniform, she has wavy blonde hair, pale skin, a freckle above her lip and blue eyes. Blue eyes that were now looking at her.

"Bonjour." She says, a slight smile. Lexa realizes the woman believes she's French.

"Hi." She says simply, hoping to relay that she is in fact, not. The woman looks a little surprised and perks up a little bit. She opens her mouth to speak until the bartender sets her drink down and she thanks him in French. She takes a sip of her drink for a moment, then looks back at Lexa once more.

"Are you American?" She asks. Lexa nods her head and the woman smiles. "Man, it's been ages since I've come across an alive and well American."

Lexa smirks a bit,"I don't know about 'well' but I am alive as far as I know." 

The woman furrows her brow with a smile still plastered on her face. "A soldier?"

"That's how they found me, yes." Lexa says. The woman looks more confused. 

"Found you?" Lexa nods, she sips her drink for a moment before beginning to speak.

"My head and memories are a little messed up." She states. A slight realization dawns on the woman and she nods.

"So you're from the asylum." She states. Lexa tenses a bit, afraid this woman might alert someone. The woman notices and puts a hand on Lexa's shoulder, "Oh don't worry, I won't tell anyone. You seem harmless." The woman looks Lexa up a down for a moment and then removes her hand, to extend it for a handshake. "I'm Clarke."

Lexa looks down at her hand for a moment before taking it,"Lexa, I think." Clarke chuckles.

"You think? You don't even know your own name?" She asks. Lexa shrugs.

"They found me in the trenches, from the fighting my name was torn from my uniform, it just said Lexa Woods and that's the name they've been calling me so i'm just assuming that's what it is." Clarke nods along, studying her for a moment. The two sip their drinks before Clarke speaks again.

"Sounds like shell-shock." Clarke states. Lexa furrows her brow for a moment, "I'm a doctor, I see soldiers coming in all the time with the same confusion after a battle. Yours is just...extreme it seems." Lexa licks her lips for a moment and nods a bit, returning to stare at her drink. Moments pass as people begin more cheers and chants, soon someone gets on the piano and begins playing an uppity tune. Lexa looks over at Clarke and watches her look at the piano player and smile at them. 

"You been in town long?" Lexa speaks out finally, attempting to take the initiative to start a conversation. Clarke turns to her and nods.

"I was stationed here about six months ago. I joined the Army after the war broke out, I was a doctor beforehand as well." She says. Lexa nods, realizing soon after she doesn't have anything to say about herself. Clarke must notice and she begins to talk again. "I'm from New York. I was first sent to Italy, then Spain for a long while, now i'm here. How long have you been at the asylum?" She asks.

Lexa sits up more straight in her stool, "A few months. Tonight is the first night I ventured out." Clarke smiles and nods, encouraging her to keep talking. "I don't think I exactly belong there, but i'm not sure where I belong out here." 

"Well, the war is over, we've survived, now you have a whole lifetime to figure that out." Lexa takes in Clarke's words, feeling them resonate. In a way she does have a fresh start, she could be whoever she wants to be. Whatever she wants to be.

"You're right." Lexa says, smiling at Clarke. Clarke returns the smile, "So, long day at the office?" Lexa starts. Clarke chuckles a bit and nods.

"You could say that, I was headed home when I got the news, figured i'd have a drink."

"This might be weird, but could you taste my drink? I'm not quite sure what it is he gave me." Lexa questions, feeling more comfortable with Clarke than she has with any other people in awhile. Clarke starts laughing heartily before nodding and picking up Lexa's drink. She cringes a bit before smacking her lips.

"It's Burbon." She sets the drink down before Lexa and wipes the corner of her mouth. "You're interesting." She says out of nowhere.

Lexa quirks an eyebrow, "Like a lab rat?" Clarke shakes her head.

"No not at all, just...it's like you got a fresh start, a lot of people dream of having that happen to them. I mean, I don't mean that what you've been through hasn't been stressful and not knowing exactly where you came from wouldn't be frustrating. I don't know. It's interesting." Clarke shrugs. 

"I guess. I don't know. It is frustrating though, I don't know if anyone is looking for me or what."

"I'm sure some people are, you did just walk out of an asylum." Clarke quips. Lexa chuckles a bit.

"That is true." A comfortable silence falls over them before Clarke speaks again.

"You know I don't have drinks with random amnesiacs." 

"Well I don't have drinks with Army doctors." The two women smile at one another before both turning to stare ahead as they bring their drinks to their lips, the smile never fading. Clarke downs the entirety of her drink and turns to Lexa.

"You want to get out of here? I'm assuming you aren't going back to the asylum. My place is a couple blocks from here, you could stay the night. It's your choice." Clarke propositions. Lexa looks at her surprised. A slight hesitance playing on her lips. She didn't really have any other options, it was either go back to the asylum and live out the rest of her days there or go with this stranger and get a fresh start. Lexa makes her decision and nods.

Clarke hops off the stool and Lexa follows, her injured leg from shrapnel giving her a noticeable limp. She sees Clarke look at it briefly as she's putting on her coat. Lexa retrieves her coat from the hanger and Clarke gives her an easy smile before offering Lexa her arm. Lexa grasps it and the two exit the tavern back onto the loud cobblestone streets. They weave through the crowd, never stray from one another. They walk at a considerably slow pace due to Lexa's limp but soon they arrive to a door and enter a small lobby. The person behind the desk smiles familiarly at Clarke and she waves at him before the two walk up the stairs. 

"There's no elevator, sorry." Clarke says. Lexa just shrugs and makes her way up the wooden stairs with Clarke. It's only about two flights, a very small Inn with only about four rooms. Clarke guides Lexa to the last door and lets go of her arm for the first time to fish out her keys. After it unlocks she opens the door and the two enter. It's a small place. A little hallway leads to the main room where a couch sits in the middle, a TV directly in front of it, to the right a small kitchen with the bare minimum of appliances. Everything is open except for the french doors behind the couch that lead to a bedroom. Lexa takes in the place for a moment as Clarke sets her things down.

"I'm just going to change and freshen up a bit. You can take my bed for the night, i'll take the couch." Clarke says. Lexa turns to protest but Clarke has already walked out of the main room and into the bedroom quickly and shuts her bathroom door to change. Lexa stands for a bit, not sure what to do with herself. She decides to walk around the open space as Clarke changes. She goes to where there's a desk on the left side of the room. Photos of Clarke with friends and what looks like her family are all over the desk. Some of them goofy, some of them serious. 

"These are old." Clarke startles Lexa from behind. Clarke puts a hand on Lexa's back for a brief moment, "Sorry I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay. Do you not speak with them anymore?" Lexa inquires. Clarke shrugs.

"Sometimes I do. Things are different there now. My dad, in this photo here, he passed away a bit ago and things just changed all around. I changed. I don't really have much in common with them anymore. I do still talk to them though, just to let them know i'm safe." Clarke explains. 

"You miss them?" Clarke nods.

"Of course, but it's hard. We're all so different now. Even my mom and I. Conversations are very limited." Clarke grows quiet. Lexa nods, not really sure how to continue the conversation. The excitement of venturing out and the hard liquor starting to exhaust her mind. Clarke notices and moves to a small closet. She opens it up and grabs linens and a pillow and starts setting up the couch. Lexa stands awkwardly, not really sure if she should be helping or what.

"I-I can sleep on the couch, Clarke." Lexa says. Clarke stops her ministrations for a split second but continues.

"Nonsense. You're still recovering, my bed is quite comfy, i'm sure better than the asylum beds you've been sleeping on. Even if you don't remember, i'm sure you've slept in some terrible places, you deserve a nice bed." Clarke sincerely comments. Lexa casts her eyes down, trying to conjure up a memory of sleeping in the trenches or other places but failing. She feels Clarke put her hand under her chin so she can look at her. She's starting to realize Clarke is a hands on type of person. "Did that upset you?" Clarke asks.

Lexa shrugs, "I just-I wish I had something." Clarke looks into Lexa's eyes and Lexa feels something strange stir inside her. 

"You'll get there." She whispers. It's intimate, as they stare at one another. Lexa breaks the contact by nodding her head towards the bedroom.

"I guess i'll go sleep now." She says, making Clarke chuckle.

"You don't even know if you're tired?" Lexa stares at her confused, "The 'I guess'" Clarke explains. Lexa smiles a bit.

"Oh yeah, no I am tired. It may be pathetic but it's been awhile since I've walked around that much." Clarke nods in understanding.

"Well if you need help or have a question, just let me know. I'll be up for a bit cause I have some files to go over."

"Okay. Thank you." Lexa says and begins to walk to the french doors. She turns back to Clarke, who is still watching her. She smiles, "Goodnight, Clarke."

"Goodnight, Lexa."

//

 

Lexa is pretty confident she hasn't ever slept as good as she did in Clarke's bed. She definitely wasn't lying. The bed was incredibly comfy. She didn't really dream about anything, hasn't in a long while but she feels nothing short of refreshed. She stretches her bones for a moment while still laying down, staring up at the cracked ceiling. It's a brand new day, and she has no clue where to go from here. She can't continue to use Clarke's kindness, she needs a plan. Maybe she should go back to America. Her chances of finding a trace of her old life would probably be greater if she were in the country she's from. But how she would get back there with no money, no identity is beyond her.

But does she even want to go back? Does she even want to find her old life? The conversation with Clarke from the night before resonating with her. She has a new start, she could travel Europe like some sort of drifter for awhile. Make a home somewhere. Lexa closes her eyes briefly, feeling a twinge of a headache coming on as she continues to think about her plans. She takes a shallow breath and decides she just needs to face today, the rest should come to her.

She sits up and takes in her surroundings, the sun is out, she can hear celebrations still happening in the streets. The curtains covering the glass french doors block her view to see if Clarke is awake yet. It's then she smells the scent of bacon and other breakfast foods and her hearing tunes in, hearing the sounds of pans. A loud bang and a muttering of a curse word has Lexa smiling. She decides it's time for her to make her presence known and she gets the energy to get up. She throws the covers off of herself and moves to stand. Her permanently injured leg, aching and sore from the walking yesterday. She runs a hand over her slacks, feeling some of the raised bumps of fresh scars. She sighs and continues her walk towards the main room.

She opens the french doors and is greeted to the sight of Clarke cooking. The smell making her mouth salivate. Clarke is in shorts and an oversized sweatshirt, humming to a tune playing on a radio as she flips a pancake. She looks at the small table located near Clarke and sees the breakfast assortment. It's a lot. She half wonders if they are expecting other people. Croissants, eggs, bacon, muffins, fruit, other pastries. Lexa clears her throat to get Clarke's attention. Clarke turns around from her work and smiles at Lexa, turning down the radio a bit.

"Good morning, how'd you sleep?" Clarke asks. Lexa moves to sit down at the table.

"Good morning to you too, I slept well, thank you." She says curtly. Clarke nods and turns back to her pancakes, setting one on a plate. She retrieves the plate and makes her way towards Lexa and then stops and looks at the table, realizing there's no other spot to put the plate.

"Well, it seems I have over-cooked greatly." Clarke states, looking at the plate of pancakes and back at the table, attempting to figure out how to maneuver the other plates so she can set this one down. Lexa chuckles a bit.

"I walked out here and I thought maybe you were expecting an Army of some sort." Lexa says. Clarke rolls her eyes as she removes a plate of pastries and sets the pancakes down. She sets the remaining plate back on the countertop and makes her way to the other chair across from Lexa.

"Har-har. It's been a very long time since i've had any sort of company. I guess my subconscious got excited to be making food for someone who could actually enjoy it." 

Lexa nods and looks at the table again, "Well I appreciate it. I just don't know where to even begin." 

"Just start from the outside and work your way in." Clarke smiles. Lexa smiles back, takes her plate, and does as she's told. The two collect the different breakfast foods on their plates and begin eating in silence for a bit. Lexa has to admit, the food is absolutely delicious. She's pretty sure she might devour the whole table of food by the end. She never realized how terrible they had been feeding her at the asylum after tasting Clarke's food. 

"It's good?" Clarke breaks her of her thoughts. Lexa nods, having just plated a big piece of a croissant into her mouth. Clarke smiles and returns back to her plate. They eat in silence for a long while before Clarke speaks again.

"Do you have any plans? After this?" Clarke seems nervous asking. Lexa frowns, not sure what answer to give Clarke.

"I haven't really thought past all of this, to be frank." Lexa says. Clarke nods and looks away for a moment. She sighs and turns her attention back to Lexa.

"This is going to sound absolutely mad. And if you want to runaway from me after I ask, I wouldn't blame you at all. But i've been reassigned to start going around Europe to the different battlefields. To treat the injured on site and help with an accurate count of the deceased. I-well-I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me." Clarke looks away, her cheeks tinged in red. Lexa thinks for a moment. 

She could travel by herself or travel with Clarke. Those were her options. 

"I wouldn't be, um, a distraction?" Lexa wonders, she's not sure if those were the words she was going for but she decides to go with it. Clarke shakes her head.

"No, no you wouldn't be. I like you Lexa, even if I barely know you. I haven't gotten along with someone the way I have with you in a long time. I think we could be great friends." Clarke taps her fingers gently on the table, her nervousness getting the best of her. Lexa leans back in her chair, contemplating the proposition. 

"I don't have any money, I wouldn't be able to pay my way." Lexa states. Clarke sits up.

"That's okay, your companionship would be more than enough. I've been-lonely. For the last few years I haven't connected with anyone, and I-I guess I just don't want to say goodbye to you. Don't worry about the money or anything if that's what is holding you back." Clarke stares at Lexa for a bit. The two looking into one another's eyes for what seems like ages. Lexa thinks. She's also been incredibly lonely. Her loneliness eating away at her as she tries to navigate everything. Clarke seems genuine, she's found it quite easy to be around her. She doesn't feel like she needs to force anything, just be the person she's found herself to be thus far. 

"Okay." Lexa says. Clarke smiles.

"Okay!" Clarke exclaims, she reaches across the table and extends her hand, Lexa looks at it briefly before taking it into her own and the two give each other two big shakes. A symbolic bond to one another. The start of an adventure and a heartbreakingly beautiful love story, although they wouldn't know it at that moment.


End file.
